


Clap your Hands (Let's Play)

by DoreyG



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Accidental Public Confession, Alcohol, Bruce needs so much more alcohol, Community: comment_fic, Groping, Inappropriate Behavior, Inappropriate Erections, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, accidental love confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 12:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3327179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens at a Wayne Enterprises charity ball, that’s the most horrifying thing. Not in the middle of a heated little spat on top of some private rooftop, not in the dazed few moments after sex when neither of them are quite thinking straight, not <i>even</i> when they’re sitting in some shitty café choking down coffee and pretending to glare at each other - <i>No</i>. At a Wayne Enterprises charity ball. With half of the town attending. In front of <i>Bruce</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clap your Hands (Let's Play)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohmcgee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/gifts).



It happens at a Wayne Enterprises charity ball, that’s the most horrifying thing. Not in the middle of a heated little spat on top of some private rooftop, not in the dazed few moments after sex when neither of them are quite thinking straight, not _even_ when they’re sitting in some shitty café choking down coffee and pretending to glare at each other - _No_. At a Wayne Enterprises charity ball. With half of the town attending. In front of _Bruce_.

Fuck his life, seriously.

It’d all started when Tim had turned up in a suit. And, yeah, Black Tie event - _whatever_. But while everybody else there, him included for reasons that _totally_ hadn’t involved the flush on his replacement’s cheeks when the kid’d asked him about it, had been wearing a suit Tim had been wearing a _suit_ \- a classy number, one that’d totally accentuated his rather impressive ass in a rather distracting way.

(“Jason, don’t be _stupid_ ,” Tim had denied it when he’d straight up confronted him, of course, but that was to be expected. The kid was hella wily, for an uptight piece of ass, “this is an ordinary suit, meant to make me look _respectable_. I’m not _Dick_.”

“I know,” he’d grinned, and tried to subtly grope him anyway, “I never said that your ass was _that_ good.”)

This had, of course, led very quickly to his mission in life being to grab Tim’s ass. Subtly, of course, as to not cause a scene. Just a quick grab when they’d both been bent over the buffet table, a casual caress when Tim had been eyeing up the wine longingly, a little _pinch_ when he’d been trying to have a polite conversation with the eternally tipsy Veronica Vreeland… Normal stuff, casual stuff, _innocent_ stuff. Designed to get that ever so pretty flush spread over his darling Timothy’s face, and his hands full of ass, and _nothing more_.

(“I know what you’re doing,” Tim had warned him darkly, halfway through the night with a stolen glass of – illegal, but apparently needed – wine clutched tightly in his hand, “I know what you’re _doing_ , Jason, and I will get my revenge. Mark my works, I _will_ -“

“You’re such a dork, kid,” he’d offered, almost affectionately, and gone for a quick dick grab just to liven things up, “if it wasn’t for that hot ass I’d _so_ be out of here.”)

It all went seriously wrong around the time of the keynote speech, when the whole family had had to get up on stage and smile their best plastic smiles for the audience. Tim had been the speaker this time – which, you know, _great_. The kid, for all his stuck-up priggishness, was probably the most level headed out of all of them. A dork, yes, but a smart one with a certain way of making himself endearing to people in spite of that. He was certainly better than him, or the murderous looking Damian, or the lazily tipsy Dick, or even the serenely wrathful Bruce who was probably just _dreaming_ of going out and punching the mentally ill in the face. Up until he got right to the front of the stage, it looked like remaining a good night-

(“You’re distracting me,” Tim had whined, right before – he would’ve given the kid more shit about that, but they _had_ just found a quietly dark corner to have a quick make-out session in so. Priorities, “you’re going to make me unable to read, and then I won’t be able to focus on the speech and-“

“Don’t worry,” he’d offered cheerfully, and pushed up with his hips _just_ to hear Tim’s breathy squeak, “I’ll grope your ass afterwards, it’ll be _fine_.)

-And then he’d dropped his notes, with an oddly clumsy flutter. And he’d found himself moving before he could even think about it, crouching down at Tim’s shiny-shoed feet and gathering the paper before it could fly off into the void or anywhere more obscure.

(“Thanks,” Tim had muttered shortly, a small smile just teasing at the edge of his lips as he’d accepted the printed cue-cards like they were some kind of exotic flower arrangement that _normal_ people gave to each other, “even if you _are_ probably just using this as another excuse to grope me.”

“Oh, Timmy,” he’d purred, and actually _refrained_ for just this once, “I love you for more than your ass, you know.”)

He’d only realized just how far into the shit his act of kindness, and fuck him if he ever makes the mistake of doing a nice thing again, has landed them both when Dick started laughing a touch hysterically. And he’d turned to see Damian hiding an evil smile behind one hand, and Bruce looking so openly angry that it was a miracle the gawping audience didn’t burst into flames behind them. 

…Because the microphone had been on. And now the audience is starting to whisper confusedly behind them, and Bruce is storming over with an expression like thunder, and Tim is sidling up to him and sliding a subtle hand under the line of his suit, and _seriously_ -

_Fuck_. His life may not be as bad as it seems.


End file.
